


Words Said, Unsaid

by bluerosebouquet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x18 coda, Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, Spoilers, Supernatural (TV) Spoilers, the level of pain this caused me to write yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:41:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27415915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluerosebouquet/pseuds/bluerosebouquet
Summary: Cas is taken by the Empty, Dean is left reeling on the floor
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 9
Kudos: 148





	Words Said, Unsaid

Dean doesn’t remember the last time Sam called. It could have been hours, it could have been minutes. His phone sits still and silent as he hunches inward, trying to hold the pieces of himself together, his heart thumping traitorously in his chest. He wanted it to stop, but then, the angel wouldn’t be in Heaven…or Hell, which was more likely. He had finally found the one place he couldn’t get to the angel, the one place he couldn’t bring him back.

The words ping like lit up towers all across his head, echoing and bouncing until every single one of Cas- of the angel’s words were too loud to ignore.

Each phrase is more painful than the last.

_When Jack was dying, I made a deal._

_Why didn’t you tell me?_ He screams inside his head, _if you had told me we could have figured this out. Why didn’t you trust me? I thought you trusted me. I trusted you._

The smile on his face is etched in Dean’s mind. The utter peace he had exuded, the acceptance, not knowing, never knowing what his absence did to Dean. He had always been the best at breaking when the angel wasn’t there.

_Because the one thing I want, it’s something I know I can’t have._

_How could you know that? If you had just talked to me…I didn’t want to lose you, that’s why I never…_

The confusion is still fresh in his mind, why had it taken him so long to understand that he was saying exactly what Dean had always dreamed of. The words the angel spoke, these words of love, of how he saw Dean, what about the way Dean saw the angel? The way his hair caught in the light sometimes, the way he held a whiskey glass, the way he’d tap on the table for something to do, the way he’d get so mad when he lost a board game. What about those things? The angel calls him caring, but he won’t ever understand how much Dean cares for him.

_You changed me, Dean._

_And now you’re dead_ , he thinks. _If we had just, if I had just stayed with Sam and Jack, if we had stayed with them, you’d be here. If we had just, if I had had more time, if I wasn’t such a fucking coward…_

He has to gasp for air then, he kept forgetting to breathe. He remembers the time that Sam said he was having panic attacks after Purgatory, but those all stopped when the angel came back.

_Why does this sound like a goodbye?_

The fear settles back in his gut, the fear of loss, the fear of rejection, the fear that, if he said anything at all, it would make the angel leave faster, and he can’t let that happen, the angel has to stay, he had to find a way to keep the angel.

_Because it is._

He can feel himself start to shake again, he digs his nails into his palms, dotting them with more and more red crescents, reminders of the invisible pain that cut through his chest like the scythe that had caused this whole mess. He bites down on his lip hard enough to taste blood, trying to wipe his memory of the last words the angel had said. _If I could just forget those,_ he thinks, _maybe I’d be able to get up off the floor, call Sam, tell him I’m alive. Figure out a plan, a way to get…the angel back._

No such luck. But then, the Universe had proven time and time and time again that he was never lucky.

_I love you._

_Don’t_ , he thinks to the shadow of the angel, who’s blue eyes captivated him even in memory, though the memory was still knife-sharp and threatening to split him wide open. _Don’t love me, everyone who loves me leaves me. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t love me._

The shock of what the angel had said rolls over him again. The idea that anyone like Cas…the angel, could love him in a fraction of they way that he loved him? It was unbelievable. He had been so sure, in Purgatory, that he knew what Dean was going to say, that Dean had finally worked up the courage to do, and had stopped him because he hadn’t felt the same. That was why he hadn’t said anything, he was following the angel’s lead.

_Goodbye Dean._

A hand on his shoulder, thrown to the floor. He can still feel his hand there, the same hand that had dragged him out of Hell, the last thing he would ever have of the angel he fell in love with as he fell from Heaven.

Turns out they were falling for each other the whole time.

Now only untaken chances left scattered on the floor.

Dean tries to count the number of bricks in the wall across from him, but the words still echo endlessly in his mind, begging to be heard again and again, and Dean relents each time. Maybe he’s a masochist, maybe he just doesn’t want to lose the sound of the angel’s voice. If he lost that, he really might go crazy, and he was already over halfway there anyway.

Now he’s left with a mouthful of words that he would never be able to say to the angel, so he says them to the empty air, watching as the dust motes floated down into the dirty floor.

“Me too. Me too Cas. Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Are we surprised I have an angsty coda for this? Probably not, but here it is anyway lmao  
> Also stan the SPN writers for clear skin <3


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